One Less Thing to Worry About
by CaysieRenee
Summary: Sethin Tabris occasionally doubts himself and his position leading the rag tag little group of theirs. One one such night, he decides to visit the tent of his fellow elf. m Tabris/Zevran one shot. nothing too explicitly laid out.


**A/N: **Hey there. I've had this brewing about for a couple days in my mind. m Tabris/Zevran. Nothing explicit, just fleshing out my little rogue a little more. Might do a follow up piece on this, not sure yet.

It only took a couple moments of tossing and turning for the young elf to sit up in his tent. He sighed softly as he packed up his bedroll and peeked out of the tent. Still dark. As much as he should have figured. He took his newly re-rolled bedding in his arms and slipped from his cozy tent, knowing he wasn't going to be able to sleep right now.

He hugged the roll to him as he snuck not-so-stealthily past Leliana, who sat guard on the other side of the fire. She had heard him awake a few times this late, and had decided against questioning the Warden. More often than not it just proved to be a late night snack binge, sometimes a modesty trip to pee in privacy amongst the taller brush near by.

This time, however, was a bit different for him. He'd never up and took his bedroll to try and sleep elsewhere. But as he rounded the fire, he saw himself staring at another tent, finding the idea of sneaking into it more alluring than it should have been. The Warden smiled tiredly as he made up his mind to pay his fellow elf a late night call. Though he was a bit more than embarrassed as he neared closer, his foot rolling on a small stray piece of fire wood that sat out on his path to the tent. His balance completely gone, he pitched forward, landing with a soft 'thud' in front of the tent. His fall was partly cushioned by the bed roll, but he had to spit out some of the dirt that had puffed up into his face. Leliana had looked back in surprise, though she turned back to watch duty with a slight knowing giggle once she'd seen him.

Though the Warden had tried to hide his attraction, and the subsequent way he willingly let the assassin seduce him, it had been fairly obvious to the rest of the group what was going on, though they said not a word about it. Alistair was perhaps the exception to that, naively believing that the time spent in either of their tents was used for 'strategizing and planning what move to make next'...sometimes, he thought he should at least be invited to those conversations. Being the other Warden in camp, and all, he thought he should be privy to the information. Unless it was some secret..._assassin training _or something.

Thankfully when everyone was asleep, they seemed to remain that way. Long days of traveling and fighting did tend to wear on you, after all. The elven Warden picked himself back up, wiping his face before managing to get into Zevran's tent with no more hitches. He carefully unpacked his bedroll in the space next to the Antivan, silently laying next to him. He closed his eyes for a minute in relief no one had woken up to question if he was alright.

He snapped out of it quickly when he heard a low chuckle, and he flushed a nice rosy shade as he opened his eyes to see Zevran staring back at him. "Hmm. You did not think you could just sneak in without me noticing, did you, my little Warden?"

Sethin swallowed the lump in his throat, forcing a soft smile. "I...er, actually..." he tripped over his words even more than his own feet, it seemed. "I was sort of hoping you'd...be awake still..." his voice had tapered off quietly, almost at a whisper as he finished. "I...I had a nightmare." what came next was not what he had been expecting.

The Antivan laughed softly, "Why did you not go to your fellow Warden to talk, then? Aren't these things common amongst you?"

It was the way Tabris pouted, face flushing even more that made the laughing stop. Even if he knew that Zevran wasn't being mean, he couldn't help it. "But it wasn't the Archdemon," he said. Honestly, it was stupid, and he couldn't even remember it anymore, but it had obviously bothered him. "I guess if you wanted me to, I could always just pop into Alistair's tent. I'll tell him this whole ordeal scares me to death and that I need to be held and comforted?" the Warden threatened jokingly, though he didn't move as if he were getting up.

"No, no, we can't have that," Zevran smirked lightly, looking at his fellow elf in what little soft light filtered in from the campfire. He brought his hand up to wipe away some of the dirt that had still clung to his face from his fall. Sometimes after a particularly long day, he could see the weariness in the Wardens face, the way he might look particularly defeated if something he'd done had backfired. But he'd never admitted that he was scared. If Zev were a different man, knowing that their 'fearless leader' was still a scared boy might just scare him, too. For him, it was quite a victorious moment, knowing that he was entrusted with the truth.

He wrapped his arms around his little Warden, sighing. Comforting, he couldn't say he was too great at. But he could hold the other man close to him, and keep secret the doubts and fears expressed to him. In admitting his fear, the rogue little elf was braver than he'd realized, really. "I do not think your fear is such a horrible thing," the comment slipped out from the assassin's mouth before he could hold it back. "It keeps you alert, no? There are times when I, too, am scared...but let us keep that between you and me, okay?"

Whether he had meant to or not, that had struck something in Sethin Tabris. He was certainly glad he'd strayed from his tent tonight, and in response just kissed Zevan, unable to muster any proper _words_ of thanks...

Though it was all too apparent the next morning what kind of a thank you it had turned into, when Alistair was led to Zevran's tent by Leliana while looking for his fellow Warden. Hadn't been in his tent, and had even taken the bedroll with him. Well, it had worried him, though maybe Leliana's soft chuckling as he approached should have been a greater warning.

He...had not been expecting to see the pair entangled as they were, night clothes cast aside. He thanked the Maker that at least they were covered as he stumbled away from the tent. _Well_, that at least explained why the elf would get indignant over the claims Alistair made about him wanting to bed Morrigan and making kissy faces at her. As horrified as he seemed to be about this particular turn of events at the moment, he thought that maybe his perpetually worried-looking friend could benefit from this. Even if Zevran had tried to kill them at one point. It still didn't mean Alistair had to like the assassin, just...tolerate him as he had before.


End file.
